and all the world becomes black
by fishgirl1
Summary: the summers household deals early in s6


"Good Morning, Willow."  
  
Willow's eyes turn up; look at me, past me. Her eyes are like x-rays peering past my skin and my bones and my muscles. Like I'm not even there.  
  
"You should eat something." She states. There's no suggestion in it. No indications. No emotion whatsoever behind it. She just states.  
  
"Okay," I agree, obediently. I look over at the little yarn fruit hammock and pull out an apple.  
  
I should sit with her. We never just talk anymore.  
  
"So, how was-"  
  
But I'm interrupted by the sound of her chair backing up and I watch as she folds the newspaper and stands.  
  
"I have to go meet Tara," She explains, grabbing her coat off the back of her chair.  
  
I smile. They're so cute together. Once we all went to the beach and the two of them smiled and held each other all day until the sun went away. I watched them kiss and laugh and I wondered when I would get to feel that way.  
  
"I can drive you," I offer. "We can use the blue car."  
  
She loves the blue car. We had a poll to see which color we'd paint Mom's old one and Willow's color won.  
  
"I can drive myself." She says stiffly. Then she glares at the fruit in my hand. "What are you doing?"  
  
I look down at it then back at her. "I'm about to eat."  
  
She sighs. "An apple? Seriously, Buffy, I-" Then she pauses, catches herself and exhales. "Fine, whatever. Just stay home, okay?"  
  
I give her a warm smile. "Sure thing, Willow."  
  
She smiles at me, kind of- and then she pulls her jacket on and goes.  
  
I'm all alone now, I realize. I look around. It's really bright out. Like the windowsill is on fire. I pause and look again. It better not be.  
  
Maybe I'll clean the house. Yes. Like Big Mama Buffy, like the woman of the house.  
  
I go to the closet and hook the vacuum cleaner up. It revs up and sucks in all the microscopic germs as I let it glide over the floor.  
  
Sometimes I get this feeling; like this implication that yes, Buffy Summers, you *are* the woman of the house. Everyone puts so much on my shoulders that sometimes I feel that the weight of it all might break me. That would be bad.  
  
I vacuum my way into the living room.  
  
Who would watch Dawn and Willow? What with all the monsters and groceries and Dawn stealing things like I don't know.  
  
What a fun life. Spike comes over some and we do things that he asks I not tell anyone. Why would I tell? He comes and tells me he misses me and he hugs me and kisses me and we do lots of things that I'm certain Willow and Tara never could- but still. I keep waiting to feel good. To get the feeling of something; the kind of thing Willow and Tara have.  
  
But then again I wouldn't know how that feels, so maybe I've had it already and just don't know it yet.  
  
Spike's always saying how much he loves me and how much he should have told me before and then he cries and we have sex and I wait for the moment when it's my turn to cry. It never comes, so maybe tonight.  
  
Every night he'll sneak in like a thief in a movie and he'll do the things he always does and then he leaves. Once Dawn almost caught us and she would have had Spike not leaped out the open window.  
  
Dawn was curious, she looked at me in a certain way.  
  
"Why are you naked?" she asked in a hard but interested tone.  
  
I stood there for a while and looked around.  
  
"I didn't know anyone was up." I said.  
  
"Well, I am." She shrugged, "And this is the last time I get up for a glass of milk with you around."  
  
With a big smile I said, "Let me get that glass for you."  
  
"No," she smirked, "I'll get it myself."  
  
"Well, I'll go back up then." I announced. "Goodnight, Dawn."  
  
"Buffy," she said quietly.  
  
I looked at her in that fond-of-you-dearly way.  
  
"Put some clothes on next time."  
  
Oh. Dawn. I glance at my watch. Twelve-o-clock sharp. She told me to go tape something for her. Something on E!. I should really get to it. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ At four-o-clock the house is clean. Every inch has been either dusted or spritzed with water. It's perfect. I've been sitting here on the couch watching dust settle.  
  
I lead an interesting life.  
  
Dawn comes in suddenly with a velvet red jacket that doesn't register with me.  
  
"Hey Dawn," I greet. "Nice jacket."  
  
She tenses for a second. "I borrowed it from Miranda." She shrugs.  
  
"Mmmhhhm."  
  
She flashes me a fake smile and I flash one back at her.  
  
"So are there any cookies?" She asks, quickly changing the subject. "Yes, I was in the mood so I baked some. They're cooling now."  
  
"White Chocolate chip like last week?" she asks, excited.  
  
"I couldn't find any so I used mint."  
  
"Mint," Dawn made a face. "Better than nothing, I guess."  
  
"Yes, I've learned it is quite better."  
  
She wrinkles her nose at me.  
  
"Oh, is Willow home? She said she'd take me to the mall. There's a killer sale going down at Macy's."  
  
"She didn't tell me about a sale." I say quietly, picking up a cookie and placing it on a plate. "I'm her best friend. She should have told me about a *sale*."  
  
"Well it's not like you *need* any clothes." Dawn rolls her eyes; she grabs one cookie and completely shoves it into her mouth.  
  
"Tastes like toothpaste."  
  
"That's what I used."  
  
She frowns at me.  
  
"That's gross. That better be a joke. Don't tell me."  
  
I smile.  
  
Footsteps ring in my ears and Willow comes in with Tara by her side.  
  
"Hi Tara," I wave.  
  
She waves back. I'm very fond of Tara. She takes care of Dawn more than I do sometimes.  
  
"Ready to hit the mall?" Willow asks.  
  
"Duh," Dawn laughs, leaving my side.  
  
I watch as they leave and then I'm all alone again. My cookies and me sit in silence for a long, long time.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
By eight they aren't back yet and Spike swings by, happy that we have the house all to ourselves. He kisses me tenderly and runs his hands through my hair.  
  
"Let's get to it then, luv," He growls, kissing the side of my face.  
  
I wait and wait and wait and we have sex right there in the kitchen and he pulls all his clothes back on and he forgets to tell me he loves me and cry.  
  
"Spike," I place a hand on his shoulder. "You- you haven't cried yet."  
  
He gives me a blank look.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Well, you cry every night." I explain, "And you tell me you love me and then we have the sex. but- you forgot."  
  
I grin and give him that innocent, pretty girl cock of the head.  
  
"Now shoot."  
  
He looks at me quite speechlessly and lets what I've said hang in the air.  
  
"Baby, I'm tired." He says, "Let's not get into that now."  
  
I blink up at him and nod. "Okay."  
  
"Well then I'll just see you tomorrow." I say, walking away.  
  
I get as far as nine feet away when suddenly I hear him.  
  
First he sniffs then he starts crying. I turn around and see him on the floor, leaning against the counter. He's crying with his head in his hands and I have no idea why.  
  
"Spike," I say quickly, walking back to him. I bend over the floor and sit with him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you-"  
  
"Just shut up you bloody-" He shakes his head. "I miss you so bad, slayer."  
  
"That's very sweet."  
  
"I-I can't bear to be so far- I. Every night we- but I need you. I need more. I need *you*."  
  
"Spike, I'm right *here*," I remind him.  
  
He doesn't listen, but he sure does cry a lot. I wait again but I don't even feel sad. Maybe tomorrow night.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Twelve o' clock and I'm sitting alone in the living room watching TV. Someone comes down the stairs and at first I can't make out who it is but as she approaches the light of the TV catches red locks of hair and pale skin.  
  
"Hello Willow."  
  
She has messy sex hair and is in a green bathrobe.  
  
"Why are you still up?"  
  
"I'm watching Jay Leno," I explain calmly. "He's interviewing Brad Pitt."  
  
" Who is very cute," I add.  
  
"Yup, that Brad's one sexy fella," Willow agrees. "-Just don't tell Tara."  
  
I nod, smiling.  
  
"Why don't we talk Willow?" I query. "What?"  
  
"You're supposed to be my best friend, but you're always leaving me out of things. Pushing me. What did I do?"  
  
She runs a hand up her hair and drops it, leaving a very high trail of red hair up.  
  
"Look- we shouldn't even be talking about you." She says. She contemplates this over her head.  
  
"Whatever. It-it doesn't matter. *You* don't matter."  
  
"Willow, that's a terrible thing to say! Of-of course *I* matter! I'm Buffy! *Why* would you say that?"  
  
"Look! Stop it! It's hard enough to handle the house and everything but when you -"  
  
She shakes her head, tears forming in her eyes, ready to spill.  
  
"Willow," I pull her into my arms. She tenses and slowly relaxes into them for a while, then violently pushes me away.  
  
"No! No! This is wrong! Stop it! You aren't her! God, Every time I see you all I think about is how dead she is and how we still can't bring her back! Ugh, I can't stand looking at you! You-you make me sick!" she spits. She shoves me against the couch and pulls my shirt up.  
  
"Willow, do you need a cookie?" I ask.  
  
"Shut up! Why can't you just *shut up* for one second? God, do you have any idea how much having to *use* you hurts me? You're just some stupid robot who happens to look and talk like my best friend! And she's gone! She isn't you and now you're going to *stop* trying to be *her*!"  
  
She rips my stomach compartment open and starts undoing some of the wires.  
  
Why is she so angry? I'm very lost now.  
  
"I'm sorry Willow," I apologize.  
  
I feel myself shutting down and the angry look on her face goes away, and all the world becomes black and suddenly I find myself all alone. Empty and nothing and not even there. Like I'm floating or I'm air.  
  
I've never felt how Willow and Tara do. I wouldn't know how they feel or how to feel. Maybe this is it and I just don't it yet. 


End file.
